Dust and Shadow
by glitterkitty101Emilyshi
Summary: A series of Throne of Glass drabbles and oneshots. Mostly Rowaelin. Mostly depressing.
1. Ashes to Ashes

Shouts rang across the castle. A heartbroken cry that started at it's very core and spread like a dark stain.

"The queen is dead! Long live the queen!"

A thousand years had seemed a long time. It had stretched out before them, endless and eternal.

Too short.

But Rowan Whitehorn Galathynius did not cry out.

He traced fingers through his beloved's shining, white hair, over her withered lips, her too frail bones.

"What are you dreaming of, Fireheart?"

The queen's lips did not move. Her eyes did not open and sparkle with mischief.

A small smile played around Rowan's lips.

"I hope you keep a place for me in those dreams."

He stroked Aelin's hair again. As he had done in Mistward, a thousand years ago.

"Eleyntia will make a good queen, won't she?"

And indeed their daughter would. With both her mother's loyalty and devotion, and her father's fearlessness.

Rowan pressed a kiss to his carranam's brow.

And faded, into distant crackling flames. Into the arms of his beloved.


	2. A Kingdom Burned to Ash: Part I

The child wandered along the edge of the forest. Flames danced in her palms, arching in firebirds and sparks overhead. She hummed a tune under her breath. Something her mother had played many times on the pianoforte, with her in her lap, teaching her which keys to press.

The child knew she was hopeless at playing. Mother's hands always seemed to drift over the keys like white swans, crooning sound of joy and sorrow from the ivory keys.

The screech of a hawk echoed above her head.

The child looked up, in time to see the hawk change into a tall man, with ice white hair, who landed with cat like agility on the branches of the tree.

The child made a move to shrink behind a tree. Mother had said never to go too far into the forest. She had said there were dangerous people in the forest, people who could kill a person in seconds without blinking an eye.

A branch snapped under her foot.

The man blinked. With a smooth, fluid motion, he leapt from the branch and took a step towards her.

The child summoned flame, into her palms, as her mother had taught her, and sent a dagger of flame flying towards the man.

Ice collided with the fire in midair.

But the child had expected the man to attack. The man was a warrior. A pure far warrior. One look st him told her as much.

She sent bolt after bolt of turquoise flame towards him. The man deflected.

Before he had a chance to move, she child ran towards him, palms glowing with flame and pushed at the man's chest.

His skin...

The child recoiled in shock.

It was ice cold.

As she took him in, she saw the wickedly curling tattoo, running along his face, over his arms.

Her foot caught on a root and she fell, backwards, into a hollow.

The man advanced. The child shut her eyes.

"Who is your mother, little one. Who is your father?"

The child blinked open her pine green eyes, to see their twin surveying her from the man's face.

His voice was beautiful, low and soft.

Somehow, she felt as if she would quite like to talk to him.

"Queen Aelin Ashryver Galathinus. I don't know my father."

The flicker of a smile crossed the man's lips.

"And what is your name?"

The child crossed her arms. "Eleyntia Rowena Galathinus. It's a horrible name. Everyone just calls me "Lina".

The man laughed. A soft, rusty laugh as if he had not laughed in a long while.

"Well, Lina, are you a princess then?"

"Only Uncle Adeion calls me princess. He says I act just like mother when she was a princess."

The man smiled again, as if something amused him.

"Would you like to be called princess?"

Lina tossed her golden curls. "I'd rather be a queen."

The man roared at that.

Lina crossed her arms.

"That is not very polite. If you were a nice man, you'd offer me chocolate and take me home."

the man continued to roar in laughter.

"Galathynius women and their chocolate. Do you like hazelnut truffles as well, little Queen?"

Lina nodded her head vigorously. "Do you have any?"

The man sighed. "I wish I did. They don't grow out here in the wild."

"it's alright. I'll bring a box next time I come visit you and we can eat them together."

"The look" passed across the man's face. The same look her mother had after a long day and looked out the window, as if searching for something lost.

"Little queen, if you can come next time, come and I'll eat truffles with you until we're both sick."

Lina tilted her jaw upwards.

"I am the Princess of Terassen. I may go where I please."

The man shook his head.

"Not even princesses can do whatever they please. Now, Lina, it is time to go home."

"I don't want to!"

The man put a hand on her shoulder. It was surprisingly gentle.

"You must."

Then he changed, the hawk flying over the treetops and into the mountains.

* * *

"Did you have fun today, little runaway?"

Aedion crossed his arms.

"You can't skip training forever. I have half a mind to put you on stable duty."

Lina squirmed in her seat. Across the table, Aelin and Lyssandra grinned.

Aelin knew she should punish her daughter. But she couldn't bring herself to do it. Not when she had hated early morning training as a child.

"What did you do all day, Lina?"

Lina's eyes had turned thoughtful in her small face.

"I met a man with white hair and the most lovely tattoo. All across his face. It looks a bit like the one on your back, Mama. He listened to me, unlike some people around here." She paused to glare pointedly at Aedion. "He told me I could visit again. Can't I Mama? Tomorrow?"

Aelin felt her heart stop in her chest.

Yes it was there, that all too familiar scent intertwined with Lina's.

"He was good at listening."

Lina's eyes widened. "Do you know him Mama?"

"Yes. And you mustn't visit him again."

"But..."

"No but's Lina. Go to bed."

Lyssandra has gotten up from her seat, without a word, to take Lina to her room.

Her daughter pushed her away, and ran up the stairs.

Aedion sighed.

"You can't keep her away from him forever. She'll grow up someday."

Aelin's head dropped.

If only Rowan would come back, she would welcome him with open arm. She had long forgiven him for that long ago fight, where he had left and she had barred the gates of the palace from him until he had flown away, never to return.

No, they were both too proud to ever return.

Lina had been born eight months later. Aelin had doubted Rowan knew she existed.

But of course he did.

She stared at the other end of the table, empty as alway. She hadn't been able to let anyone, even Aedion take it. The King's seat.

He mate's seat.

Empty.


	3. A Kingdom Burned to Ash: Part II

**Continuation of the last chapter. A Kingdom Burned to Ash - Part 2**

Aedion stared over the table at Aelin.

It was stupid, so rutting stupid how proud Aelin and Rowan both were. It was clear that there could never be anyone else for either of them. They had been so in love that they had practically glowed with it.

Aelin proped her head up in her hands and closed her eyes.

She seemed to be doing that quite a lot these days.

Aedion sighed. "You knew this day would come someday, Aelin. You can't keep a hold of Lina forever."

Aelin slid her head into her hands.

"I know. Gods, I know."

"Just talk to him."

Aelin's head snaped back.

"No."

He slammed his fist onto the table. "Damn it Aelin, stop being so proud. You still love him, go rutting talk to him!"

Aelin's mouth formed into a hard line.

"And what would that be like? I just waltz into the woods, find Rowan and say 'Hello! Sorry I banned you from Teressan. Suprise! You now have a daughter that I've hidden from you for eight years. Would you like to come back and have tea?'"

Aedion groaned.

"Yes. Just…"

"He couldn't forgive me. Not for what I did."

Aedion stood and walked to his cousin's seat. He lifted her chin in his hands.

Her face was thinner than it had been, even in the midst of war. There was sadness as well on her face. Aelin's features had always been sad, but it had been a sharp cut kind of sorrow, banished with a smile or a laugh. This sorrow was tired and everlasting, like a drop of ink in water, turning the water from clear, to grey.

"Aelin..." He murrmered. "Of course he could."

Aelin turned her face from him and stood from her chair.

"Keep Lina away from the forest."

"Do you want him to?"

He called after her.

But she was already gone

* * *

Aelin braced herself, and knocked on her daughter's bedroom door.

"Lina, sweetheart, can I come in?"

"No."

She almost smiled, though her heart was heavy. Smiling seemed somewhat foreign to her these days.

Aelin pushed down the latch and walked into the room.

Lina was sprawled across her bed, golden hair burried in a mound of pillows.

She sat down at the edge of the bed and made to pull the covers from over her daughter's head. Lina sat up, her tearstained face red and blotchy, and pulled the covers back up.

"Are you mad at me because I won't let you go see the man again?"

The pile of pillows jerked in something like a nod.

"If you sit up, i'll tell you a story about the man. And then maybe you will understand.

Aelin waited.

The covers shifted and Lina tucked her knees in under her night gown.

"Once upon a time, Lina, there was a Queen and a Knight…"

"Was the queen you, Mama?"

Aelin smiled.

"Yes. Now, the Queen had a Knight and she loved him more than anything in the world. Her Knight promised to always be by her side and in return, she would have given up her kingdom to keep him safe."

Lina tilted her head to one side.

"So the man was your Knight? But Mama, you don't have knights."

Aelin ran a hand along Lina's golden hair.

"Shall I continue with the story?"

Lina nodded.

"Then the Knight broke his promise. He left. The Queen begged him not to leave. He promised that he would come back."

"Mama, did he ever come back?"

Aelin had to swallow the sudden pressure at her throat.

"He wanted to, Lina. But the Queen was proud. She said that if he was to leave, he need never come back. And so he went, and when he returned, the Queen had built a wall so that he could never returm. She thought she could never forgive him. And so he left."

"That is a horrible thing to do Mama. You should have forgiven him! You always tell me to forgive Uncle Aedion for ruining my dresses and throwing knives at my head!"

Her daughter stood from her bed and crossed her arms.

"You should forgive him and stop being silly."

Tears trickled down Aelin's face. She started in suprise. She hadn't realized she was crying.

"It's not that I don't forgive him, Lina. Its that he will never forgive me."

Lina opened her mouth.

"Thats not true…"

"You can't understand Lina, but for me, will you stay away from him in future?"

Perhaps Lina heard how pathetic she sounded, but her daughter nodded, slowly.

"Won't you tell me his name, Mama?"

His name, her mate's name clanged throughout her being like a bell.

The shadows momentarily lifted from her face.

"Buzzard."

* * *

The dagger wizzed through the air and landed outside the target again.

Lina cursed. For an eight year old, she could curse very colorfully.

Her uncle grinned.

"Don't let your mother hear you."

She was distracted today. She knew she was. She had been distracted for the past week.

Uncle Aedion hadn't said a word. She guessed he knew why she was so distracted.

"Do you think that Mother's best friend won't forgive her?" She said before thinking.

Her uncle looked confused.

"I'm sorry. Are you asking me if I forgive your mother for something? I don't think she has done anything particularly terrible very recently."

Lina clapped a hand over her mouth, then removed it.

"No, mother's other best friend, Buzzard."

Aedion's eyes filled with the strangest look.

The he burst into laughter.

Lina tapped her foot against the training room ground in frustration. Everyone was always laughing at what she said even when it wasn't at all funny. Even Buzzard did.

She drew a knife from around her belt and threw it.

It wizzed by her uncle's ear, and landed, cleanly in the center of the target.

"Answer my bloody question."

Aedion glanced at the knife and the back down at her. His features turned serious.

"Yes. I think he would. And I think your mother is afraid that he would."

"Why?"

Aedion plucked the dagger out of the target.

"Throw again."

And she knew there would be no more talking until she did.

After asking Aunt Lyssandra about Buzzard and getting no answers - Aunt Lyssandra had howled even louder than her uncle, Lina gave up on asking.

She went to the kitchens and asked for a plate of hazelnut truffles. Also for a plate of sandwiches. She then wrapped the sandwiches and chocolates up in a cloth and put them in a basket.

Nobody saw her as she slipped out the back door. Her mother and Aunt Lyssandra were in a meeting with some foreign ambassadors and Uncle Aedion was in the barracks, overseeing his Bane.

The door closed behind her with a creak as she began to walk towards the forest. Towards the man.


	4. A Kingdom Burned to Ash: Part III

**A Kingdom Burned to Ash: Part 3**

Aelin looked out her window at the whistling sound outside.

From far away, two figures came hurtling out of the sky, a dark-haired man clutching for dear life, to the waist of a white-haired female.

Dorian Haviland, King of Adarlan, and Manon Blackbeak, High Witch of the Blackbeak Clan, Queen of the Crochan Witches and Queen of Adarlan, landed in the courtyard astride Abraxos.

Well, at least Manon landed. The landing was too generous a word for what Dorian did.

Dorian practically fell off the saddle and stumbled about on the courtyard cobblestones until he reached the edge of a nearby fountain and sat down.

Then from behind them, a smaller figure astride a broomstick whizzed through the air like an arrow and a tiny, dark-haired witchling hopped to the ground.

For the first time in a long while, the Queen of Terrasan laughed. She stood, flung open the doors to the courtyard and ran towards the group of three.

"Trust you to come completely uninvited and without warning!"

Dorian groaned and stood shakily.

"It wasn't my idea."

The dark-haired witchling bared her small fangs in a smile. "Suck it up."

Behind her, Manon put her hands on her hips.

Aelin choked on a suppressed giggle. "Hello, Rhiannon." Rhiannon Havillard offered her a grin. "After surviving a major war, Dorian's still a wimp." Manon gave Dorian a glare before continuing.

"We've come to discuss trade. But mainly to visit. He," She gestured to Dorian, still struggling to stand, "won't shut up about visiting you. You haven't visited us for five years. He's brought three trunks full of books. They still have to be shipped over."

Dorian waved a hand in the air to get her attention. "I hope you have tea. And sandwiches. And knowing you, I'm hopeful for chocolate." He winked.

Manon slapped him on the shoulder. Dorian winced and next to him, Rhiannon burst into silent laughter.

"Where is Eleyntia?"

Rhiannon, having overcome her fit of laughter, asked.

The last time she had visited Adarlan, Aelin remembered, Lina and Rhiannon had become quite good friends. She didn't remember much from that trip - it had mostly been spent sitting listlessly on a couch, listening to Dorian's comforting words, and Manon demanding to know what had happened between her and…well she didn't like to think of it.

Manon was one of the few people who knew every detail about what had happened. No doubt she had told Dorian as well. To her credit, she hadn't said a word for or against…him…after she had told her.

Aelin gave Rhiannon a small smile.

"I'll send for her."

* * *

Lina, the Princess of Adarlan is here."

Evangeline bounced into her room.

Lina quickly shoved the basket she had been holding under the bed.

Then the words registered in her mind.

A wave of panic washed over her. "Rhiannon is here?"

Evangeline pulled the door wider, beaming. "Yes. Princess Rhiannon is here."

Indeed, it was Rhiannon Havilland who swaggered in the door.

They had been about three or four the last time they had seen each other. During that time the two of them had gotten into a brawl that had left both of the bruised and bloody. Neither of them had cried. After they were both exhausted, Rhiannon had held out a hand and Lina had shaken it.

They had gone and eaten chocolates together in the kitchens. The servants had gasped when they saw the two of them covered in mud and filth.

"Hello, Princess Eleyntia Rowena Galathynius." Rhiannon performed a mock curtsy.

The door closed as Evangeline left.

She tried not to look at the basket under her bed. Buzzard would be waiting for her like he did every day since the first time she had snuck out into the woods. He'd wait and wait. Any other day she would have been delighted to see Rhiannon.

But not today.

Lina forced herself to flash a wicked smirk.

"Hello, Ana."

Rhiannon threw herself on the bed and buried her face in Lina's pillows.

"You didn't visit. You said you would."

Rhiannon's feet were dangerously close to the basket.

"I couldn't. Mama wouldn't let me."

Rhiannon sat up. "Well, I'm sure she can be convinced."

She spluttered. "Have you met my mother!"

Rhiannon rolled her eyes. "You could just run away. I'm sure the stables have horses."

Lina barely heard her. She was focusing on Rhiannon's feet. One step closer to the bed and… Rhiannon traced her stare to under the bed. To Lina's horror, she reached down and plucked up the picnic basket.

"For someone whose mother used to be an assassin, you should really be more discreet. Going somewhere?"

Lina snatched the basket out of her hands. "Yes. And I can't tell you where, but someone is waiting for me. Please don't tell!" Rhiannon observed her from head to toe for a minute. Her teeth were dangerously close to her throat. "Why should I do that?"

Lina sent a desperate prayer to the gods.

She told Rhiannon everything. When she hd finished, Rhiannon tapped an iron talon on her thigh. Then, to her surprise, Rhiannon spoke.

"I think I know who you are going to see. My mother once told me a story…well, go then. I'll cover for you." Lina was reminded of why she had spent endless nights sobbing in her bed after her mother had told her they were not to visit Adarlan for a long while.

"Thank you." She grabbed her basket.

Rhiannon flicked her wrist.

"Go!"

* * *

In the midst of his meeting with Aelin, Dorian saw a bright streak of golden hair flash across the window.

It was undoubtedly Eleyntia, though, from a distance, it seemed uncannily like a copy of the child Aelin he had met when he was just a boy.

He watched as the Princess of Terrasan ran across the fields towards the forest. What was the heir of Terrasan doing, running into the woods unguarded and without supervision?

"Dorian, what are you staring at?" His wife snapped, slowly tapping an iron nail against the table.

He shook his head.

"Nothing."

* * *

He was waiting for her in exactly the same place as he had first met her.

But this time, he was pacing back and forth in what Lina thought to be worry.

"Where have you been, Lina?"

He seemed to be scanning every inch of her for injuries.

"I'm sorry, but the King and Queen of Adarlan came today and I had a hard time leaving Rhiannon behind. She promised not to tell though! You can trust her!" She added as he tensed.

"If someone had told me long ago that you could trust a witchling, I would not have believed them. But I think Rhiannon Havillard takes after her mother in that respect."

Lina arched an eyebrow. "You knew the King and Queen of Adarlan? I thought you were only my mother's Knight. She told me so, anyhow."

He traced a finger over his jawline. His features darkened. "They were your mother's allies in the war. Moreover, they were her friends. And I am only your mother's Knight. I do not serve any other court."

Maybe she appeared frightened, but his voice softened. "Now, what have you brought in that basket?"

Her mother's knight popped a hazelnut truffle into his mouth. "Your mother always said these were the best things on earth. I never knew why she liked them so much. But I think I may be beginning to understand."

She giggled. "Mama eats far too many. It's a wonder her teeth are not all black."

"Indeed." He rumbled. A beam of light touched her face.

The sun had begun to dim. Lina gasped and grabbed her basket. "Mama will miss me!"

Her mother's knight leaped to his feet. "Hurry then!"

She brushed the moss off her dress. Then, she felt him grab her by the wrist.

"Come again, Little Queen." His voice was wistful.

And certainly, she would.

* * *

"How was your excursion with King Rowan Whithorn Galathynius?" Rhiannon drawled as she entered the room, legs crossed on her bed.

Lina froze.

"Who?"

Rhiannon threw aside the book she had been reading.

"Don't deny it. I can smell the fae scent on you. Prince Rowan Whitehorn, the strongest fae male alive?"

Lina felt the world shift under her feet.

No. I couldn't be.

And yet he fit the description. He had her eyes.

"My father?" She whispered.


	5. A Kingdom Burned to Ash: Part IV

**A Kingdom Burned to Ash: Part 4**

 _Eight years ago:_

Aelin took a breath. And incinerated the trees around her.

Rowan's power rose and swallowed the fire, leaving charred marks on the trees.

"How dare you. How dare you talk down to me. How dare you go behind my back?"

 _The image of all those rebellious lords nodding at Rowan's every word. The lords she had spent almost a two years trying to rally, without success._

 _Rowan standing, to her shock, and calmly stating every single detail of his plans, as if she were not there._

She had just sat there, mouth open, as he spoke. The sting of it it had nearly paralyzed her. Then anger had overtaken her.

Pure, unending rage pounded through her veins. She sent a spear after spear of flame flying at him.

"You've done the same thing! I don't see how any of this is different." Rowan hissed.

"Don't bring the past into this. Everything I did, during the war, I did for the safety of our court."

"Your Lords rebel against you. Even after everything you did, they won't listen to anything you say. They will never truly respect you as queen!" Rowan ducked as she shot another bolt of fire at his head. "It's time to stop trying to change them and find another way. And despite what you and Aedion believe, you can't-do everything the same way as you did in the war. This time there isn't anyone you can assassinate or manipulate for money. You are the bloody Queen of Terrasen."

"We have Dorian and Manon." She screamed.

"We cannot simply rely on Adarlan. Let me go into Maeve's lands and conquer them. We can establish a stronghold there."

"Yes. You said all that in the meeting."

Aelin felt her blood boil.

Rowan reached out a hand for her. She stepped away.

"I know it is hard to for you, Maeve..."

She could see the words flashing across his mind.

Coffin. Valg. Broken.

"That is the last reason on my mind. Let Maeve's lands alone. They belong to the demi-fae. It is theirs by right."

Rowan shook his head. "They are restless and without a ruler. Take the chance Aelin. Step in as their Queen. Take charge of the lands. They see you as a hero."

"I gave it to them. It is theirs to do with. I will not take it back."

"I'm not saying you will!"

Aelin's eyes flashed. "Then tell me that you will not go."

Rowan stopped. His voice was low.

"I'm doing this for Terrasan and for us, Aelin. I love you, but I will go."

Aelin's stomach tightened. "If you go, then you need not return."

"Aelin!" He called after her.

She didn't listen.

She slammed their bedroom door, told the guards not to let Rowan in, and run into the bathing room.

Aelin wretched. Once. Twice. The bile choked in her throat. Hot tears welled in her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks.

He had not noticed. He had not seen it on her. And he was leaving. Leaving her and the small, growing life that had sprung up within her.

Yes, he loved her. But it was with a limit. He was leaving, even though she had begged him to she would have accepted it. But now she could not.

Once she would have accepted it. But now she could not. No, she could not think of loving him, living with him, if she knew there was a limit. Kissing him, knowing that some part of his heart did not belong entirely to her. Better to never see him again, than to live like that.

Aelin stood and wiped the traces of vomit from her mouth and chin.

Then she lay in her bed and waited.

Rowan did not come.

She felt it in her soul when Rowan crossed the border.

And for the first time, she used the blood bond.

Her soul shattered as she pulled and whispered a command.

"Rowan Whitehorn Galathynius, King of Terrasen, I exile you from my kingdom."

* * *

Dorian saw, from the window of his and Manon's suite, Eleyntia again running across the fields.

The child had been uncannily quiet at dinner. Aelin had thought she was ill and put the child to bed for the night.

But his magic had sensed the scent that clung to her under the layers and layers of lavender soap. Wind and ice and pine. The scent of a long lost King.

Aelin had not noticed a thing.

Dorian did not know whether or not he should tell Aelin, or keep it from her.

His eyes caught a second figure running behind the princess. A figure with his dark hair and her mother's golden eyes.

He dropped the pen he had been holding.

What was his daughter doing?

* * *

As soon as they were beyond the range of sight, Lina climbed on top of Rhiannon's broomstick.

The shimmering edge she had ridden ever since Rhiannon had told her the story of her parents, crested.

The two of them arrived within an hour, at the woods.

He was there.

The glow in his eyes dimmed as he saw Rhiannon behind her.

"Lina..." He began.

She kindled the flame in her palms.

"How dare you not tell me. How dare you keep it from me. You knew. You knew who I was." Her voice quivered. Rhiannon laid a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off.

His eyes had gone wide.

"Lina," Rhiannon warned.

Shadows haunted his eyes.

"You led me on."

The words hung, suspended in the air.

Her father's eyes were full.

"I'm sorry. When I saw you, I knew you were mine. And I knew that if I told you who I was, I would never see you again."

Distantly, Lina heard Rhiannon walk away, giving them privacy. She was thankful for it. For how much Rhiannon understood what she needed.

"You are so like your mother." He whispered.

"You should have told me."

Her father bowed his head. "I know. But I couldn't do it, Little Queen. You were so like her, and I hadn't even ever gotten to know you."

Her eyes flashed. "You could have come to the palace and asked to see me."

He shook his head. His white hair fell into his face, obscuring his eyes from her.

"I am exiled from Terrasen. I can never return."

Lina gave a short, bitter laugh.

"You didn't try. You never tried to see me after I was born."

"What was the use?"

"My mother would have forgiven you. She has forgiven you. She is afraid that you don't forgive her. Come back with me" She pleaded.

Her father shook his head again.

"No."

"Please." She sobbed.

"No."

She screamed it. Her plea. Until Rhiannon came up the hill and wrapped her hand around Lina's arm.

"Let go!"

She sent flame licking up Rhiannon's arm.

But Rhiannon did not let go.

Rhiannon pushed her, kicking, onto the broom, and lifted them into the sky. Far away from the woods.


	6. A Kingdom Burned to Ash: Part V

**A Kingdom Burned to Ash - Part 5**

She screamed and screamed and screamed.

Distantly, she was aware of Rhiannon shouting at her to stop. She was going to burn it all down. The fields caught on fire matches to fuel her flame. And she screamed.

Someone would notice the fires.

Lina didn't care. Let them notice.

Her mother had lied. Her father had lied. Everyone had lied and told her the lies were the truth. She was sick of it.

They had been such beautiful lies. She was sick of it.

She was sick of it.

Somewhere in the midst of it all, Rhiannon had left.

Fine.

People were shouting now. Most likely they would be running up to the palace to tell her mother to control her unruly brat.

It didn't matter.

* * *

The messenger stumbled right into Aelin's meeting.

"Your Majesty, the princess..."

The man shuddered, his words unintelligible.

Dorian was quicker.

He pointed out the window.

Blankets of golden flame covered the barren fields and slowly stretched to the crops, devouring everything in its path.

And at its center was a small figure with golden hair.

It was as if her heart had stopped in her chest.

Her daughter.

Such fire. Such pure, cataclysmic rage.

All she could do was stare. Because she was frozen.

Manon's chair was pushed to the ground as the witch ran to the window.

"Rhiannon!"

The witchling was running towards the gates, her white hair streaming behind her.

It was Dorian who flung open the door. Rhiannon took one look at him and threw her arms around him. Dorian gave a strangled gasp.

Rhiannon didn't usually like people touching her. Dorian held her a little away from him.

A disappearing burn ran across her arm, too recent for her witch blood to completely heal.

"Lina... father, you have to come put out the fire. She's lost it!"

Manon pushed Aelin aside with a hiss. Slowly the ice around her began to crack as the sheer weight of what was happening reached her.

"What in the rutting name of hell happened?"

But Rhiannon pushed them all away and pointed to the fire.

"Hurry!"

The ice broke.

So they all ran.

Aelin ran like she had only run once before. Ran because her daughter, the thing she loved best in all the world, who she would give anything for, needed her. She lept over gates and stumbled over rocks. Faster. Faster.

Dorian and Manon and Rhiannon ran behind her, all so slowly. She left them behind.

She lept over gates and stumbled over rocks. Faster. Faster.

She would not let it be too late.

Not for the third time.

The flames were scorchingly hot. So hot they could have melted stone.

It was a reflection of the fire in her veins. That fire had been reflected and magnified by a thousand-fold.

Aelin wondered for a second, if it was possible, for fire to be burned.

Every sense of self-preservation in her screamed as she threw herself into the flames.

It burned.

Agony blazed up her arms, her legs, her core as she walked into the very heart of the flames.

She was burning.

She forced her eyes to stay open. She had to find Lina.

Panic possessed her as searched the field of fire.

Lina was sitting, with her eyes closed, palms still outstretched, pouring out fire. Her shoulders were slumped, wracked with sob after sob. her mouth was open as if she had screamed and screamed until her voice had died and she could scream no longer.

Aelin grasped her daughter's hand.

Her skin bubbled where it made contact with the golden flames. Pain, like she had never felt before, blazed through her, yet she clung on even more tightly to her baby, the center of her world.

She would not be too late again. And she would not lose the one person she loved most in the world, again.

Lina's eyes flickered open. So slowly.

And Aelin pulled her daughter close to her chest.

* * *

He had smelled the smoke and watched as his daughter sat and set fire to the barren grass fields.

So like Aelin. So like his queen had.

He watched as she screamed.

His heart had gone absolutely still.

He had moved to help her, to pull her out of the fire. His daughter.

His daughter. Strange that he should have a daughter.

Then she had arrived.

His queen. Running like the assassin she had once been.

His queen had flung herself into the flames and wrapped her arms around Lina, and carried her out. Out of the blazing hell.

The clothes had been burned off her back, her full breasts and torso covered in burns. He remembered those breasts. That body. Just as he remembered the spirit he had seen as she ran straight into hell itself.

His Fireheart.

She didn't move. Only lay there as her chest rose and fell with each breath. It would be pain unbearable, to be burned like she had been.

His Fireheart was in pain.

Rowan Whitehorn ran at the invisible barrier to the woman and kingdom he loved.

It wasn't there anymore.

He ran to his Queen's side, as he went, he sent ice to freeze over the fire that was still inching towards the farmer's fields. It died in an instant.

Aelin was barely breathing. Terror gripped him in an icy hold.

"Fireheart?" He hadn't said that name in eight years.

His Queen did not move. By her side, Lina lay, unconscious in exhaustion.

"Fireheart?" His voice broke.

Her skin was a patchwork of burns.

Rowan gritted his teeth together and summoned his power.

Her skin began to knit back together.

Aelin gave a barely distinguishable sigh. "I've missed you so much." She whispered.

His heart contracted. Rowan swore. "I'm here. I'm here." He promised.

Her skin had turned from the ghastly shade of raw flesh to its original sun-kissed gold.

Aelin gave a short laugh that was cut of as she gasped in pain. "No, you are not. You never stay."

She did not think he was going to stay.

"Why?"

Her head twisted.

"Because this is all a dream."

Rowan recoiled.

She was hallucinating. She did not believe it was real. No, his queen did not truly want him back. How could she, after what he had done?

Far away, three figures crested the hill.

Dorian and Manon and their daughter.

Coming to save his Fireheart.

So Rowan shifted,

and flew away.

* * *

"Rowan was here." Dorian sent his power around Aelin and Lina, levitating them both into the air.

Manon cocked her head to one side.

"Of course he was."

"But Queen Aelin never lifted her exile." He objected

"She never said it. But she did."

There was a long pause. Rhiannon glanced at both of them in incomprehension.

"Are you going to ask her about it?" Manon asked.

Dorian shook his head.

"It's her call."

* * *

Aelin opened her eyes to see the familiar sight of her bedroom.

She blinked and held up her hand.

Whole.

No doubt one of the fae healers had been in to heal her burns.

A maid moved in a nearby chair and walked towards the bed.

"Your Majesty?"

Aelin turned her head.

"How is the princess?"

"Tired, but not hurt." The maid smiled.

Aelin nodded.

"You are dismissed."

She wanted to be alone for a while, to think.

The door shut.

Lina had lost it. Lina had lost control and she almost hadn't been able to stop her. Part of her wondered what had made Lina so angry.

The other part of her was thinking of His voice.

Her Mate's voice.

She thought she had heard him next to her, healing her, calling her.

"Fireheart."

She had thought she'd heard him promise that he was by her side.

Aelin turned in her bed and clutched at her pillow.

No, it wasn't possible. Not with what she had done.

No, it was only that her heart had betrayed her, by showing her what she wanted more than anything in the world. Just a dream.

It had been a lovely dream.


	7. After the Storm

Her fingers grazed the keys.

She pressed a note. It rang like a bell. She fumbled for another and her fingers slipped.

"It's alright. Take your time." Rowan murmured at her ear.

She took a breath and played a passage. The pianoforte squealed as she hit a wrong note. Then another. Then another. Unreasonable panic flooded through her.

She couldn't play anymore.

Aelin stared at her fingers in wide, unbelieving shock.  
"Let's come back another day." Rowan laid a palm on her back.

Her jaw set. "No."

He slid onto the bench beside her. "Then I'll stay. We can stay here all day if you want."

But they couldn't. They both had things they needed to do, needed to deal with.

But she played along. She nodded. Her fingers rested on the keys again. The first few bars, then...

Her thumb grazed black key and stopped.

Tears welled in her eyes, what for she didn't know. For some reason she felt, angry. So, so angry.

"Fireheart, stop."

She whirled on the bench.

Suddenly she wanted him gone. She didn't want to see her mate's calm, sorrowful face, waiting as she failed again and again.

Because that was what was happening. She was failing. At being queen, at putting herself back together, at getting over what happened…

"Leave."

Rowan blinked.

"Leave. Go away. I don't want to see anyone today." She shouted it, nearly screamed it.

"Aelin, I'm not leaving."  
"That's an order." She pointed her finger at him, a queen's command.

Rowan made a move, but she kept her finger outstretched.

"I'm not leaving." He said again, his voice shaking as if he was struggling to keep it level.

In a fluid motion, Aelin stood from her bench and shoved him.

Rowan stumbled in surprise, falling out the doorway.

Somewhere inside her, a voice was screaming.

Stop. Stop. STOP.

Before she knew it, the bolt had fallen over the door.

Rowan's fists rang against it. Muffled shouts on the other side.

As if she was in a daze, Aelin walked over to the pianoforte and began to play.

Stumble. Stumble. Trip. Stop.

She slammed her fingers over the keys. A loud crash of disjunct noises filled the air. She slammed them again. Once. Twice.

Her fingers fell lifeless, off the keys, as she began to sob.

Her breath caught in her chest, and she couldn't breathe. All she could do was sit there and sob as if the world had ended.

It was stupid. So stupid to be crying over something like the pianoforte. Stupid that she had endured Endovier, and Arobynn and Maeve and this was what made her sob.

Still, she couldn't stop.

Rowan. His name cut through her sobs. She wanted Rowan, wanted him to hold her tight and promise it was going to be alright.

But she had locked him out. She had wanted to be alone.

To be alone.

That was what she deserved. It was punishment for being selfish, for remaining so broken despite what Rowan or Aedion or Lyssandra or any of the other people who loved her tried to do.

The door crashed down.

Only when Rowan's arms wrapped around her, did she realize she had slid to the floor.

"Hush." He whispered into her ear. "It's ok. It's ok."

'I'm sorry. " She gasped against his warm chest. She hadn't realized that she was cold. "I'm so, so sorry."

Rowan cupped her chin. Suddenly, his eyes were fierce.  
"You have nothing to apologise for, Fireheart. Nothing."

But that wasn't true. Aelin knew that wasn't true.

Still, she let herself sob against her mate for just a little while.

Allowed herself to accept being weak, for just a little while.


	8. There Were Days

There were days when Aelin Ashryver Galathynius woke in the dark of night and wished that she had not burned so bright and survived the dark. When she wished that she had died inside that iron coffin. Sometimes dying seemed so much easier than living. Dying was forgetting. It was oblivion.

Living was remembering. Living was lying awake in the dark, afraid that she was trapped again. In her body, but not. A living shell. Living was realizing over and over again that even though she had made it out, some part of her would never be free. Then being angry, just angry at the entire world, because she deserved her freedom.

Those days, Rowan always somehow woke, no matter how softly she shifted. Without a word, he would light all the lamps in their room, hold her to his chest and whisper in her ear. "It's going to be ok. You are fine. You are stronger than the darkness. You survived this far."

Half the time she didn't believe him. Those days, the Queen of Fire did not feel strong. How could she be strong, when she was so afraid?

But Rowan held on to her. Rowan was there, his warmth seeping into her cold, tired body. And sometimes, it was enough. That when those days came, she was not alone.

* * *

There were days, when Aelin Ashryver Galathynius did not speak a single word to anyone. Not to Lyssandra or Aedion. Not to Rowan. The days when the sorrow and pain inside her chest grew so intense, that it felt like if she opened her mouth, she would shatter.

Those days she simply sat at her bedroom window wrapped in a quilt, while Rowan read to her. The old books she loved – fairy tales and poems that all ended in happily ever after.

And her mate read until his voice was hoarse. Until she was finally able to cry. Until she was finally able to unleash that soul splitting ache in her chest, in a torrent of tears.

Those days, Rowan always caught her as she fell.

* * *

There were days, when Aelin Ashryver Galathynius looked Rowan - her carranam, her mate, her King - and was glad from the bottom of her heart, that she was alive.

Because if she had died, if she had given in to the darkness, she would not have been able to see the grins that burst like sunlight across Rowan's face when she smiled up at him. She would never have been able to see the joy on Aedion's face as he gazed over the vast stretch of their homeland, or how happy Lyssandra was with Evangeline.

Those days, Rowan was there as he always was.

He was there. Every single day.

It was enough.


	9. In the Name of Love

"Aelin" Rowan threw back his covers and crawled towards her.

"Aelin, you're ok. You're safe."

Aelin had wrapped her arms around her knees, a soft moan escaping her lips. It was as if she was screaming, screams that died before they ever reached her mouth.

Her shoulders shook against his, too light, too thin, nothing like the strong, tan mass of muscle they had once been.

He took hold of those shoulders, gripping them with his fingers. He could feel every single bone as he tried again to wake his Queen.

Aelin's eyes stared forward, open and unseeing.

He threw his arms around her, pulling her towards him. She writhed at the physical contact, fighting to free herself from an imaginary cage. A coffin.

Rowan could have wept at the desperate blows she slammed against his chest. Despite it, he only held her closer, the pain of her fists nothing to the pain in his heart, his soul, and buried his head into her hair, murmuring her name, again and again, a prayer to the distant, cruel gods.

Gradually, his Queen stopped moving, and lay, absolutely still, eyes clear, chest heaving.

"Rowan." A question. Aelin's voice wavered as if she couldn't quite believe it was all real.

Rowan exhaled. But even as relief washed through him, a sickening thought blossomed in his mind, his very soul.

No fire. Not even when Aelin had lost control. Not one spark, ever since she had returned. Perhaps killing that Valg Princess they had thrust inside her had broken her. Perhaps the darkness had extinguished that flame, that light.

Anger flared up in his chest.

But even that didn't matter. Not when Aelin was lying on her back, staring at the ceiling, while tears slid silently down her face.

"Tell me about it. Please. Let me help you Fireheart." He pleaded.

Aelin grabbed his hand. He let her take it. Let her reassure herself that it was all real.

"Tell me about it." He whispered again.

Aelin blinked, breathing heavily.

"I love you. I love you, Rowan." Her voice was thick with tears.

"I know. I know, love. Tell me about your dreams." He reached under her head and drew her into his lap, her head resting on his thigh.

She shuddered.

"No."

Rowan's heart stopped.

"Why not Fireheart?" He rasped. They were mates. She should have trusted him enough to tell him anything.

But even before everything had gone to hell, she had not always trusted him. She had not even trusted him enough to tell him that he was hers.

Aelin closed her eyes.

"Because I love you. And telling you - everything that happend has happened already. There is nothing you can do to change it. And telling you - I know you would feel in some way...responsible. And...I don't want that. Everything that happened was because I let it happen. I was willing to let it happen if it meant saving you all. I..." Her voice cracked. "I just want to forget."

Rowan laid his arm across her shoulders and fluttered his fingers over her eylids, pushing them upwards with a painstaking gentleness. Aelin's green-blue eyes flickered open.

"You are out. And all that's left are those memories. You've trapped them in your head, hoping that some day they will go away. You are right. There is no way I can change what happened. But you cannot pretend that none of it ever existed. That is too big a burden for even you to bear." He burried his hands in her hair. He skimmed over the rough edges where it had been hacked off by a sword or a dagger. Anger boiled in his chest at the thought of one of Maeve's henchman grabbing her by the shoulders, holding her head back, and cutting away that beautiful, golden hair.

"You are so strong. You have surived so much. But even for you, this burden is too heavy. So let me help." He pleaded.

Aelin's eyes had filled with tears. She coughed, once. Twice.

"It was so dark." She choked. "It was so, so dark."


End file.
